#4ppa

[minglz]

// 1 like doodles! Ft. the amazingly cool @4ppa !!! Wasn't sure what to have him wear or do. So have tired man with coffee. Figured that was a legit reason lol

[fr0ntman]

DET. J. PARK * ↪ 𝘪 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭 !

a mask is a metaphor. a mask can be immaterial, the facade one wears with words, the body, the gaze. it is also a mirror, a contradiction. a double-edged sword.    a man is never freer than from under a mask. he is also never more constrained. it is a censorship and a legalisation all in one. the facade in-ho is presenting this evening, at the bar he'd chosen to pass some time, is this: languid, almost nonchalant, and important in that sort of busy-looking way a lot of businessmen adopt. it is the universal body language that says: don't talk to me, i'm busy. @4ppa does not seem to mind that invisible sign, disregarding it entirely by occupying the previously empty barstool next to him. in-ho does not necessarily mind, nor is he bothered when the man strikes up a casual conversation. by the third round of drinks, in-ho had offered to buy.

all hours are working hours, with the job he holds. but while he is on the job, by technicality, he is not dressed for it. contradictory as it is, he always feels more masked like this ( donned in a suit and tie, with his hair neatly dishevelled, disgustingly human ) than in the physical mask that is his uniform. perhaps that is why he finds detaching from the interaction easy. conversing with the detective — as he'd discovered mid-way a story — is like conducting a study into the psyche from a detached, objective perspective. he listens, he smiles on cue, and exclaims where necessary, and so the night goes. it helps that he finds the detective relatively interesting, reminds him of days long-gone, when he'd served a similiar profession.

❛ three? ❜ in-ho repeats, a low chuckle derived from his throat — either for the animated recounting of the story, or some private thought that came to him. ❛ it's amazing, what people are capable of under pressure. ❜

glass meets lips, eyes lifting toward the man, ❛ you must see things most wouldn’t believe, in your line of work. ❜

[hidefire]

is something going on? 

@4ppa … talking about trauma.

going to hospitals was a part of her job. sometimes the job of a firefighter included making sure transport went well. but usually, rain didn’t have to actually walk into the building. she never really thought about it, most of the time. but of course, it’s when she’s with someone that she hesitates. god, she wants to throw up.

“…uh. bad experiences. that’s all.” she answers, before finally pushing on the door.

[minglz]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ @4ppa - liked!

ㅤㅤ❝—𝓨ou aren't going to eat?❞ Eyes look up from his own plate he was picking at to examine the untouched plate in front of Jason. In-ho was concerned now, did something happen that spoiled his friend's lunch? ❝C'mon. you'll need your strength.❞

[madhere]

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 🐇 ﹚ ❤︎'𝑑 ... @4ppa – ꒰ jason ꒱ !

[ ... ] ❛ ❛   i apologize if i've brought up a sensitive topic ... i'm admittedly inclined to always err on the side of compassion.   ❜ ❜

[deliriumang3l]

@4ppa Liked for a starter.

Rebecca lifts her head as the quick footsteps approach. A man, she notes, and at first she frowns, her legs ready to bounce -- but seeing the young girl’s eyes next to her come alive, Rebecca settles back in her seat by the defunct fountain, watching their reunion quietly instead.

Rebecca is many things, but she’d never harm a child... no matter how strong her hunger may get.

[wlfsbane-a]

fingers tap rapidly at the keyboard attached to the computer that they copied their files onto. ❝ i don't think we have any body by that name. ❞ you murmur from your bent forward position. you were the only one in today, which was fine. it merely meant that you were left to deal with any visitors. ❝ are y' sure ya' have th' right morgue? ❞ / @4ppa ♡

[spiritdreamt]

you're my favorite type of distraction. @4ppa

she laughs in delighted surprise, a sudden, startled giggle. the perpetual rosiness of her cheeks spreads until her entire face is a bashful shade of pink, and her nose crinkles with the force of her smile. compliments always manage to catch her off guard, and her complexion doesn't exactly lend itself to hiding when she's flustered. "careful," she murmurs, trying (and failing) to bite down on her grin so she doesn't look quite so self-satisfied, "you're going to give me a big head, talking like that, and then you'll never get rid of me."